


A good soldier does not miss

by Astray



Category: Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Angst, Gen, M/M, Obi-Wan did not survive Utapau, Post-Order 66
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 11:38:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7169507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astray/pseuds/Astray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cody did not miss his target, on Utapau. And it was fine, because good soldiers follow orders. </p><p>Due to a malfunction - and repeated hits - Cody's chip starts malfunctioning. As time passes, memories come back to him. Not the ones he thought he had for a long time. These memories were different - bore the seal of reality. And with them, the realization of what he had done, back on Utapau. Back when Order 66 was received.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A good soldier does not miss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emocezi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emocezi/gifts), [Olorisstra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olorisstra/gifts).



Cody had been a good soldier, all his life. He had followed orders, without questions. It did not matter that, as of late, he started dreaming. It was nothing precise. Sometimes, the voice that would remind him – that good soldiers followed orders – that traitors must be killed... Sometimes this voice would fade – unease would spread through him. He was grasping at straws, could not pinpoint the reason why. But as soon as he resurfaced to consciousness, the voice would be there. Shrill, overthrowing all other thoughts. A buzz he did not mind. It did not matter anyway. Memories from before the traitors appeared for what they were. He hit a wall. Shook his head. Traitors were traitors, and he had done his job. He had done it well. More than images, it was the sensation that something was terribly wrong, until it was drowned again. It did not matter.

Cody went about his duties as usual. Glanced at his hand – once, his armour had borne traces of his individuality. He could not remember these days very well – just the impression that it once had been important to him. It still was, in a way. Even if no one used his name – except the vods who had been with him from the start – and there were few of them now. Mostly, he was referred to as T-2224 – not a commanding officer, but a trainer. Why they had decided to rename him, he did not know. He might be a good soldier, but that did not mean he enjoyed being renamed on a whim.

That mission was suicide. But Cody went. _Good soldiers follow orders._ Many troopers fell. _Destroy the traitors._ The transport crashed. Cody barely managed to get out before it exploded, sending parts and metal all over the place. Shock at the back of his head, his back. Crushed under debris. Breathing was hard, his head was spinning. He could not see. He had to move. Panic welled in him – memories hit him – another battle, another planet, another crash. He fell.

He awoke in the medbay – he could not feel anything. The first thing he noticed that the usual voice he could hear in his head was too tenuous to be heard. A signal fading. He brushed it aside. He opened his eyes, staring into the blinding light. A vod telling him not to move. He had been severely injured. He should be alright now. Kept in stasis for days. Cody managed to move his right hand. It hurt. He let sleep claim him once more.

He was in a deep canyon. Someone talked to him. Look to the side – he remembered. Obi-Wan Kenobi. He left – a message arrived. Cody raised his blaster – shot him. Body falling down the cliffs. It was wrong – or right? Everything shifted. Kamino. Kenobi again – asking for his name. Smiling. Another shift – room dark. Kenobi again. Kissing him, touching him. Words. Cody started awake. His heart was pounding in his ears, his head was swimming. What had happened to him? He was completely alone. He slumped back on the bed. What was this all about? Kenobi was a traitor. Maybe the painkillers had messed with him? That must be it. It had to be it. But as Cody tried to settle down to rest, doubt grew at the back of his mind.

He did not sleep.

Cody was allowed out of the medbay, and he immediately delved into work. He did not want to think. He would not sleep. Yet even when he was awake, he would sometimes get a flash – a fleeting image elicited by a word, a sound. He was going out of his mind. He kept a front for the recruits, for his brothers – for his superiors. After days, exhaustion was taking its toll. He would not sleep. He could not. He worked harder. Drilled the shinies as much as he could – he took on more work than strictly necessary. He was a good soldier. He followed orders. And he did so with a growing knot in his guts. Whenever he heard the word 'traitor', he felt his skin crawl. As if the word itself was something terrible he had to avoid. It made no sense. He did his best to convince himself.

Of course, he could not keep up with that rhythm for long. Not that he lacked stamina. The pressure grew exponentially. He went back to his quarters, divested himself of his armour. Standing in the small room in his blacks, he paused. In such moments, he was not really T-2224 anymore. He was Cody. Himself. He lied down on his bunk. He could not avoid it now, he knew. It was creeping on him with a merciless certainty. He locked the door, typed his code. Another code, from another time. He closed his eyes, letting sleep come.

There was Obi-Wan Kenobi again – and Boil, and Waxer, and Rex, and all the vods from when he was still in the 212th. It was sunny, bright. Warm. Laughter – it echoed faintly. Like an hallucination. Happiness – that was what it felt like. The picture faded – the colours drained. Cold. Kenobi's face – asking why. Cody tried to reach for him, to ask – what was he talking about? If the man was a traitor, why were the dreams different? Why did it feel so wrong. He saw himself handing over his saber to Obi-Wan Kenobi – asking him to stay safe this time. He saw the holo springing. The words. _Execute Order 66._ He saw himself give the orders, raise his blaster. Shoot. He almost fell from his bunk. His breathing was erratic, sweat was turning cold on his skin. He looked around – the room was dark. Echoes of another time. Obi-Wan Kenobi had not been his enemy. He could no longer hear this buzzing sound, this voice – the voice that would come up every time a Jedi was mentioned. Cody said it out loud – Kenobi had not been his enemy.

Realization fell on him – these dreams... They were his memories. Not the ones he remembered in his waking moments – he tried to remember these. Tried to remember the resentment, the anger, the betrayal that up until now he had felt when reflecting on his time in the Republic Army. He could not. He tried to look for them, struggling to recall a scene – and he did. Geonosis. The failed landing. His anger was not for Kenobi – his general then. It was for the Separatists. For those trying to kill them. These dreams were the truth. But if that was the case...

Pain constricted his chest, knocking the air out of him. He could not breathe, he could not stop his thoughts from running. He had killed the man he had sworn to protect – never mind his orders. He had killed his friend. Memories rushing back – hands on his skin, lips on his own – the sense of exhilaration and rapture. His lover. He had killed him. A low whine escaped him – the sound bouncing of the walls and he could not stop. His eyes were burning, he could not breathe – he was going to die. His entire body was shaking, his arms wrapped around him. He tried to move but his legs did not support his weight. He fell. He curled on his side. Tears flowed and he could not stop them – he did not have the strength to. He remembered everything – as it was supposed to be. Excruciating knowledge of what he had done. Of what they all had done. Becoming what they had always refused to be. Doing what none of them would have expected. He laid down for a long time. He could not bring himself to move. No matter how cold the ground. He deserved that pain. He deserved it all. He was drained – he did not want to live. He lifted his right hand to his face. With this hand...

Light, from his right. Low but enough to attract his attention. He turned, not sure he wanted to see whatever that was, but unable to help himself. The sight made him choke – he startled away from the figure standing there as though it would burn him. It could not be. He screwed his eyes shut. He could not look. He would not. A dry sob escaped him, his ribs constricting him – his heart and lungs pressed down. He was dying.

“Cody...” This voice. _The voice of the traitor, kill-_ NO! And maybe he had screamed. Not a traitor. Never a traitor. He was the traitor. He was the one who had betrayed the man whose shape was in front of him. Through his lids, the light grew brighter. He felt movement – or so he thought. “Cody, look at me.”

And he did. But he could not speak. He had no voice – his throat was hurting him. He had to keep the sounds in. If he spoke, he would break. Slowly, he tried to calm himself. Focus on Obi-Wan Kenobi – a ghost. A ghost that looked exactly like the General he had first met on Kamino. The memory came forward – bright, painful – not tampered. The pain was not stopping. There were so many things he wanted to say – he had never meant to shoot. Never. He knew it. Even if he had thought he had. The order had come and he had followed. The voice had drowned everything.

“I know.”

And these two words held so much more meaning. Words he had heard often. Obi-Wan kneeling in front of him. His hand reaching for him – and Cody thought he could feel his touch – his hand on his face. This small gesture of reassurance Obi-Wan offered time and again. Cody wanted to lean into it so desperately – afraid that if he did, the illusion would vanish.

“I am no illusion, Cody.” The touch seemed firmer – not cold, nor warm. Faint pressure. He closed his eyes. He was going insane – he was not, surely. But it was easier. The heart-rending horror of what he had done washing over him, darkening everything. Ink in water. Poison. Touch on his lips – faint echo of a past kiss. He heard a keening sound – he had made that sound, and it pierced through him. Desperation clawing at his heart, loss blinding him. Warmth, enveloping him – a sudden feeling that nothing would hurt him again. And something he did not know – he had never felt it before. _Forgiveness._ The tears flowed again, and with them went the weight in his chest. He could breathe again. It would never make up for his loss, ever. It would never erase what he had done. Exhaustion fell on him. He found his voice – tried to tell Obi-Wan, how much he loved him, and how much he hated himself. And his thoughts ran into each other, he could not tell where he was any more. He had to say it. All the while, this sense of calm surrounding him – it filled him, filled the cracks in his sanity with quietude. Sadness remained, but it was a murmur, waves on a distant shore.

 


End file.
